


Like The Sky At Sunset

by twinSky



Series: Kenhina Week 2016 [4]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Color Blindness, Hair Dyeing, M/M, and lots of it haha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-08
Updated: 2016-05-08
Packaged: 2018-06-07 02:06:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6780985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twinSky/pseuds/twinSky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kenma does not remember the first time his world became less than colourless, but instead with hints of orange -he does however, remember the day that colour went away.</p><p>--</p><p>Soulmate AU where until you meet the only colour you can see is the colour of your soulmate's hair</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like The Sky At Sunset

**Author's Note:**

> This one is so far the one to cut it the closest but it's also longer than the others by literally more than double, and for one nearly triple so Give Me A Break
> 
> I suspected this one would be the longest but also when I am writing these day of it's so stressful I have spent the last 2 hours screaming (the last like, 1.3k we're written in that time I think)
> 
> This is also my fav so far but I'm also super weak to soulmate aus lmao

Kenma does not remember the first time his world became less than colourless, but instead with hints of orange – his mother does, says she knew it was one of the colours of the sunset because had laughed so cheerfully one day as the sky began to fill with oranges and reds and yellows and cried when she had tried to pull him away from the view – he does however, remember the day that colour went away.

 

-

 

Kenma does not know how to describe the way the world is before you meet your soulmate. It is colourless except for whatever colour their hair is, but it is not black and white (and Kenma also doesn’t know how he knows what these colours are when he’s never even seen them) because those are shades of people’s hair too. So it is all simply colourless except for the splashes of bright orange he sees in his own clothing and passing people and the slightly more muted shades he sees in what he can only assume are things that have the shade but also another.

In the end it doesn’t really matter if Kenma can explain it or not, everyone sees it, and everyone experiences it differently. Kenma just hopes that his soulmate, wherever they are, are happy with the regular black hair he has to offer them.

Finds it unfair when his own has given him such a wonderful and vibrant shade of orange.

 

-

 

He is nine when he wakes up one day and the orange of his pillowcase is gone and faded back the colourlessness that makes up the rest of his world. He is up and out of bed chest heaving and barrelling straight into his mother before he can even think of what’s going on.

“Kenma, Kenma, honey what’s wrong.” His mother asks softly, crouching down and brushing tears from his face.

“My room,” he gasps between gulps and tears, “s’not orange.”

He knows what that means, has heard the whispers that trickle down the school, has seen the posters for all those sad looking movies.

“Oh,” His mother says, a quiet breath of a word that makes him want to cry even harder, “Sweetie, it’s going to be okay are you sure?”

“Yea,” he mumbles, “pillow case wasn’t orange and,” he continues blinking away tears and finally looking properly at his mother and, “blue,” he says, staring in awe.

“What did you say?”

“Blue,” he whispers, reaching out to grab his mother’s shirt, “this is blue, your shirt is blue.”

His mother gasps and stands quickly lifting him up in her arms and places a mug in front of him. “What colour is this?”

“I don’t know”

“And this one?” She asks, holding up another cup.

“Blue,” he responds, voice still full of the awe that is seeing a new colour for the first time.

“And that?” Pointing at the cookie jar placed atop the fridge.

“Blueish,” he says confidently, used the muted shades that is an object with the colour but that is not the colour.

His mother laughs then, spinning him around and around until his head keeps spinning even once she stops.

“You’re fine, everything’s fine.” She says, burying her face into his hair and Kenma takes the moment to marvel at the deep blue that is his mother’s shirt.

It is vibrant and lovely but Kenma thinks that shade of fiery orange he had become accustomed too is so much more beautiful.

“You know Kenma,” his mother starts, pressing their noses together, “that before you meet your soulmate you get to see just one colour,” he nods, both their heads bobbing with the motion, everyone knows that, “and that colour is whatever your soulmate’s hair colour is –no matter what they change it to.”

He blinks, blinks again, understanding dawning slowly on him and what his mother is trying to tell him.

“They dyed their hair?”

“Yep,” his mother says popping the p, “and I must say whoever they are has more confidence than I ever did, I only ever managed natural hair colours –much too shy for such a lovely shade of blue.”

Kenma must have the best soulmate in the whole world, to have gifted him a lively shade of orange from birth and then show him an unnatural shade of blue.

“Mom,” he says, the word like a question coming from his lips, she hums her acknowledgement, a tone of knowing in it, “can we go to the store?”

“Of course sweetie, you go wash up and I’ll get breakfast ready, than we can head out.”

He nods, Kenma has always liked blending into the shadows but this is something he wants to give to his soulmate no matter what.

 

-

 

Kenma can no longer see the colour he so very much wants to let his soulmate see. So he grabs his pillowcase and shows it to his mother. Tells him he wants this colour; that he wants the colour of the sky at sunset, and the oranges that grow in the tree in their backyard when they are just about ready to be picked.

Kenma wants his soulmate to see the colour they gave him, the colour that Kenma can’t imagine any other ever comparing too.

His mother laughs knowingly and Kenma looks away as she ruffles his soon to be dyed hair.

“Of course, honey.”

 

-

 

Kenma likes to imagine, that when his soulmate sees his own hair colour reflected back at him for the first time he feels the same amazement that Kenma has always looked at it with.

He hopes that they love it just as much as he does.

 

-

 

The first day of the school week after he has dyed his hair his walk to school starts with Kuroo squinting down at him with a furrowed brow.

“Did you dye your hair?” He asks and Kenma glances at his blue shirt, after only two days still entranced with the new colour before responding.

“Yea, you can tell?” He responds, glancing up at the sky, the blue of his hair is more akin to the transition between day and night than the blue the sky is his mother had told him, but even so he can see the slight blueish tint to it.

“It’s kinda vaguely yellow now,” Kuroo says, and when Kenma turns back to him he is staring avidly at his hair, “how come I’m a whole year older yet my parent’s still won’t let me dye mine?”

“Because my parents are better than yours,” his mother had been all for it and apparently his father had been much like his own soulmate, though he had been fifteen the first time he’d dyed his own hair.

His parents are pretty sure his soulmate is younger than him, given he was close to a year old the first time he reacted to any kind of colour.

Kuroo pouts and Kenma grins to himself, “Maybe one day.” Kuroo scowls, and this time Kenma does laugh.

 

-

 

When his soulmate’s dye starts to fade, it is readily apparent to Kenma. The blue he is used to seeing begins to become duller and muddier while hints of the orange he is accustomed to begin to filter back in.

It’s weird seeing two colours at once, but neither have the vibrancy that one alone does, but the memory of them is nearly vivid enough.

Just over a month later since his world was tinted blue, he awakes to a world that when he rolls over to shut off his alarm clock he can see that it is red.

Kenma fingers his own still orange hair and wonders what colour he can offer next.

 

-

 

His father jokes that even if they haven’t met his soulmate is still there with him, helping him come out his shell when he comes home a week later with a box of a colour called auburn dye in his hands.

Kenma thinks that that’s true regardless of whether his father is joking or not, most of classmates might not be able to tell the shades he is dying his hair but the thought of passing strangers walking past and staring at his possibly oddly coloured hair makes his skin crawl.

He fights through the feeling, even when at first his hands had felt like they’d never stop shaking. It is less now, the fear dulled but not gone.

He can’t help but wonder if his soulmate goes through the same problems or if they have the same boundless confidence that people like his father and Kuroo seem to have.

He wonders about his soulmate often, and wishes that the person who colours his world in more ways than one would show up soon.

 

-

 

Kenma is thirteen and Kuroo hands him a ball that is striped with the lime green that currently colours his sight.

“What is this supposed to be,” he asks flatly, looking up at Kuroo, who at fourteen has finally been gifted the power to dye his own hair –just the bangs though Kuroo had admitted with a frown – and has happily dyed them a supposed vivid red. He remembers the colour vaguely from a while ago and wonders if it is the same shade.  

His own is currently a pastel kind of lavender, or so his mother had told him.

“It’s a volleyball, and we’re going to join the school team.”

“You graduate next year, why would you want to join a team in your final year.”

“To have some practice for when I try out for the team in high school,” Kuroo replies with a grin, as if this should be obvious to Kenma.

“But why do I?”

Kuroo’s grin widens, and he slaps him firmly on the back, “Because team sports are good for you and who knows, maybe you’ll find your soulmate through it.”

“Yes, of course, the love of my life, supposed other half of my soul, is just waiting for me to pick up this ball and play so someday we can face each other.” He says dryly, pinning Kuroo with as flat a look as he can muster.

“Now you’ve got it,” Kuroo exclaims in possibly faux glee, very purposefully ignoring the fact Kenma held no conviction or truth in his words. “This’ll be great, us two, out on the court playing together –just like when we were kids.”

As if Kenma was ever that active.

“Yeah,” he relents however, “of course.”

Kuroo’s smile this time is genuine as can be.

 

-

 

Kenma cannot truthfully say he finds volleyball fun. It is exhausting and tiring and for all that Kenma has gotten used to eyes on his person he still finds actually interacting with others beyond difficult to do.

Sometimes however, when everything clicks and he knows just what to do to make a match swing in their direction –he has to admit he is enjoying himself.

 

-

 

Kenma is sixteen and his world has recently returned that vibrant and wonderful shade of orange he feels like he has not truly seen in years –because the hints he gets between new recolours is just not nearly as good enough.

He wonders briefly if it means something, whether good or bad he does not know, but there is usually a month to a month and half between dyes and Kenma is going to wait for that time to pass before he starts to worry or panic.

His own hair is currently a blond with black roots he hasn’t had the time to retouch or just change completely, so it’s not like he can really talk.

He tunes back into Kuroo, who is giving him some talk about not getting lost once they get to Miyagi, that their match with Karasuno is important and that everyone needs to be in top form.

Kenma tunes back out just as quickly, he really isn’t all that worried or excited about this.

 

-

 

Somewhere, somewhere Kuroo is definitely cursing his name for getting lost yet again, but Kenma doesn’t really care.

He’ll sit here and play his game and eventually someone from the team – most likely Kuroo – will find him and drag him back where he’s supposed to be, and he’ll get berated for some array of time.

The worst part is that they’ll probably actually confiscate his PSP this time, and that will definitely suck.

“What’re you doing?” a voice from somewhat faraway asks, but Kenma knows this place is empty enough that they have to be talking to him.

He looks up from his game and his vision is engulfed by that familiar shade of orange he loves so dearly.

“Are you okay?” The other boy asks, mouth pulled in a frown Kenma wants to call cute and suddenly the other’s face is much too close, so close they are nearly touching.

Without thinking Kenma brings up a hand to touch the other’s face, sliding it up to run through his hair.

 _Soft_ , he thinks.

And then the other’s cheeks redden, brown eyes widening, and everything comes crashing back. He jerks back as if scalded but freezes halfway through the motion, the boy following him leaning forward.

_Redden, brown eyes_

“Y-you,” The boy says, pink (pink!) lips parting to reveal white (white!) teeth as his mouth simply drops open in surprise.

“You,” Kenma says as well, a bit breathlessly.

“I’m Hinata Shouyou,” the boy – Shouyou – says, eyes darting up and down as he runs a hand through Kenma’s hair and over his red (red!) Nekoma jersey as he lets out a breathy laugh.

The sound leaves him feeling as warm as the colour of Shouyou’s ( _Shouyou_ ) hair always has and just this simple feeling of aimless elation is so much more than he could have ever imagined.

“Kozume Kenma,” he finally says, and watches as Shouyou’s eyes begin to shine and sparkle at the sound of it.

“Kenma,” Shouyou says, voice sounding happier than Kenma thought it was possible to sound, “You’re my soulmate,” and then as if he’d been holding back this whole time his whole being trembles before tackling Kenma to the ground.

He thinks it should hurt, but all he can feel is the same joy that is so clearly on Shouyou’s face.

Sometime later, Kenma can’t even begin to wonder how much time has passed; a familiar voice shouts his name in the nearby distance.

Shouyou’s head shoots up at the call, cheeks flushing red as if he is suddenly aware of how this might seem to others and quickly scrambles to stand, helping Kenma up and then not letting his hand go.

“Kenma, there you are, you just can’t wander off like that,” Kuroo says, eyeing Shouyou with a fair amount of confusion.

“His sweater is red,” Shouyou says before Kenma can respond, “just like yours Kenma, and his hair is black except for his dark green bangs, and the sky is so blue and trees so green and this is _so much_.”

Kenma can’t help but agree, he has seen many of these colours individually, but all together, all at their most vibrant and lively and it is almost too much to take in. Colour bursting from each and every part of the world.

Kuroo’s eyes alight with understanding some point during Shouyou’s little rant and his disgruntled expressions melts into one of ecstatic joy before shifting into one of mischievous glee.

“I was right,” Kuroo exclaims, looking absolutely proud of himself as he does. “You met your soulmate because I convinced you to join the volleyball team.”

Wait, what?”

“Wait, what,” Shouyou shouts, brown (brown! Kenma still isn’t over it, they are such a wonderful beautiful shade of brown) eyes alighting with a fierce kind of fire that he pins on Kenma, “You play volleyball Kenma?”

“Yes, I’m the setter for Nekoma,” he replies hesitantly and is entranced by the fire that only seems to glow brighter at the statement.

“Kenma, Kenma!” Shouyou says, grabbing his hands firmly as he begins to literally jump in place, “I’m from Karasuno we get to play each other –I’m not going to lose.”

Kuroo laughs and Kenma smiles softly, already so utterly enthralled by the boy whose hands are in his, “I don’t know Shouyou, we’re pretty strong.”

“While I hate to interrupt this lover’s union,” and while his tone is joking, Kenma can tell he really means it, “we do have to head back, so why don’t you and Chibi-chan exchange numbers and you guys will see each other again at our practice match.”

Shouyou gives a small frown before giving his head a quick shake and leans over to grab Kenma’s phone from where it rests beside his bag, his hand never letting go of his. He types something into it quickly before handing it back to him with a wide grin.

“I’m so glad to have met you today Kenma,” Shouyou says, hugging him as if he might disappear when he lets go, “I can’t wait to get to know you.”

“Me either,” he says after a small pause, returning the hug in kind.

“I have to go to,” Shouyou says, but doesn’t let him go, “I’ve probably worried Suga-san and the rest of the team. Daichi-san and Kageyama are going to kill me.” He says the last part in a mumble, and Kenma chooses to let it go since he probably wasn’t meant to hear it.

It is then finally that Shouyou lets go, an almost wistful expression on his face.

“I can’t wait to see you again, Kenma,” he says softly and then with a wave to Kuroo is off running back from where he came.

“Do I get a thank you?” Kuroo asks once Shouyou’s form has disappeared into the distance.

Kenma shoves him if only to wipe the smug smirk off his face before replying, “Yes.”

“That’s not a thank you!” Kuroo pouts, beginning to walk off.

“I never said it was,” he replies, following after and looking down at his phone and the new contact it holds.

_Hinata Shouyou_

-

 

 

 

 

Kenma is eighteen and despite all the colours he can now see, there is still not a one that even comes close to comparing to the vibrant orange that is Shouyou’s hair.

“Are you ready to head out Kenma?” Shouyou asks, peeking his head through the door, when Kenma nods he smiles, entering the room fully, “great, I’m so excited I heard movie we’re going to watch is super funny and I’ve been wanting to try out that restaurant Tsukishima never shuts up about forever.”

They head out the door hand in hand, Shouyou still rambling about something or the other and Kenma feels so warm and glad and so very, very content that he can’t stop the words from spilling out.

“I love you, Shouyou.”

Shouyou comes to an abrupt stop, words, movement, for a moment Kenma even thinks his breathing. And Kenma knows, knows that this is the first time he has ever managed to properly and fully say these words that Shouyou speaks so easily to him.

A beat goes by and Shouyou’s frozen form melts into a more settled one, a grin of almost childish glee on his face.

“Kenma,” he says, turning to face him with a bright, _bright_ , red face, “I love you too,” and then leans in close, eyes turning him in question, he nods feeling a flush rise on his own face as Shouyou kisses him sweetly.

It feels most gentle, like a warm hug and kind words and Kenma feels like he might explode from the love and emotion he can feel coming through to him.

Shouyou leans back minutely, lips forming a gentle smile as he once again takes Kenma’s hand in his.

“Now I just know today’s going to be the best day yet.”

Kenma laughs, but he can’t help but agree.

**Author's Note:**

> Literally like 10 minutes to midngiht as I post this I'm positively screeching
> 
> Also because I didn't mention it in the fic, the reason Hinata's hair is orange again at the end is because he's been too busy with all the practicing to find time to dye it again (he felt bad about it until Kenma told him he liked that colour the best anyways) also really minor maybe didn't even notice implied KuroTsuki in this one
> 
> I'm probably forgetting things here but I am short on time to try to remember so sorry if anything's confusing -oh Kenma might be slightly ooc in this??? In my head he was kind of less shy and nervous in this au so idk... he might've seemed a bit off to some of you
> 
> Happy end of day four! I'm exhausted


End file.
